We are all weird

I know I’m weird because the other day I was cooking a BBQ, fooling around and using strange voices. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a neighbourhood kid in the yard steering at me with a look of part bewilderment and part horror. I asked if I was being a bit weird and she nodded slowly. “I bet your dad does weird and crazy things at home?” I inquired hoping for a favourable response.

Her face lit up as she replied “he sure does”.

“We are all weird Marama,” I replied with a smile, “we are all weird.” And with that she nodded and carried on playing with my kids.

∴

Funny isn’t it how we can behave weirdly at home, but we conform in public and at work. For some strange reason we don’t want people to know we’re weird, even though we know that everyone is a little weird.

I wonder if life wouldn’t be a little more fun and vibrant if we weren’t weird when we’re out more often. I wonder if that wouldn’t help us break down more barriers, laugh more, and enable us to not take ourselves so seriously.